Broken Heart, Broken Promises
by Kittasaymew
Summary: You all know how Neyla betreayed everybody, but do you know why she did it exactlly. A little bit of fluff, some Sly/Neyla, and rated T for languge and situations. :3
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Sly Cooper, or any Sly Cooper characters. This story was made for entertainment, and entertainment only. I will not say I own, or have ever owned, Sly Cooper, or Sucker Punch Productions. Any ties to real life are completley and utterly acciedental.**_

_**This is my first attempt at a serious Sly Cooper FanFict. You all know about Neyla's betrayal, but we did she do exactlly? I wrote this as my idea of why she did it. Some Sly/Neyla, but not alot. Neyla Fan Forever!**_

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_Broken Heart, Broken Promises  
Chapter One  
_

Hey, my name's Neyla. Yeah, you all probably know about my betrayal, and you hate me for it. Yeah, I did betray Sly, and yes, I did lie to Interpol about Carmelita, and oh yeah, how could anybody ever forget my manipulating the Contessa and killing Archpeggio? I fused with the Clockwerk mainframe to attempt to control the world. I tried to kill Sly and Carmelita. And once again, I know you hate me for it. But you only saw one side of the story. There is always to sides. You don't know anything until you've heard _my_ side of the story.

I was born in New Delih, England. You can proabably figure out the English part by my British accent. I was born into a middle class family, not rich, but not exactly dirt-poor either. My parents named me Neyla, and that means 'Indigo' in Indian. It fits my shade of fur color. I loved my parents more than anything. they were always my rolemodels. But behind all the love and attention they gave me, I could sense doubt. And that doubt grew into suspistion. I always thought they were just a bit on the greedy side, pinching pennies and always doing the cheapest stuff possible, but I didn't really put much consideration into until that fatefull day when everything changed. For me and the world.

It was a quiet afternoon, and I was sitting in my brightly light bedroom, reading _Romeo and Juliet_ by Willam Shakesphere. Even though I was young, I was thoroughly intrugued in reading, espeically love novels. I had a high I.Q, and I showed it in every way possible. My favorite novel _Romeo and Juliet_. I've read it hundreds of times, I've memorized it paragraph to paragraph, but I still loved reading it. Anyways, I was reading when a light knock came from the front hallyway door.

"Neyla, can you get that, sweetie?" My mother called from the kitchen where she was washing dishes. My father was upstairs in his study, working, so I didn't want to bother him. He could get a little testy and grumpy when his work was disturbed.

"Yes, mother." I answered. After marking the page in my book by folding down the top right corner, I got up and went to answer the door. There, in the doorway, stood a tall and thin horse. He wore a top hat and spectales, and he took of his top hat and bowed down to me in one graceful motion. This was obviously a Furrie from the rich side of town, and I could barely comprehend why he was here in the middle class section.

"Good afternoon, miss" The horse said, standing up straight and placing his hat on is head. "May I presume your mother and father are home?"

"Yes, sir." I said.

"May I please speak with them please, miss?" The horse asked poiletly.

"Uh, yes sir," I said uncertaintly. "I'll go get them." I left the strange horse standing in the door way. I walked down to the kitchen where my mother was drying the dishes.

"Who was it, honey?" My mother asked me.

"I don't know," I answered. "He's a man who wants to speak to you."

"Let's go find out who he is, then." My mother said, setting down the dish towel and the plate she was drying on the counter. She strode past me to the doorway. I followed, not saying anything. When the horse saw here, he took of his fancy top hat and bowed again.

"Good afternoon, Mrs...?" The horse asked.

"Mrs. Marrow, Clementine Marrow." My mom answered sharply. "What can I do for you sir?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Marrow. May I please come in?" The horse asked.

"I would be offended if you didn't." My mother said. She lead the horse into our living room, where he sat down own the sofa. He then took of his spectale and pulled a hankerchief out of his breast pocket and began to clean it off.

"My name is Mr. Nite, and work for the bank." Mr. Nite said as he finished polishing his eye glass and put it back over his eye.

"I payed the the bills on time, Mr. Nite," My mother snapped sharply.

"I come with good news, not bad, ma'am."

"Out with it then," My mother said, sitting down in her rocking chair.

"I would prefer not to talk about it in front of the girl, Mrs. Marrow." Mr. Nite said carefully.

"Anything you can say to me can be said in front of my daughter," My mother snapped."

"Please, ma'am, I'd rather not discuss such confedential matters in front of a mere child."

"Very well then. Neyla, dear, please go to your room." My mother ordered.

"But-" I tried to beg, but my mother cut me off before I could say more.

"Go to your room, miss." My mother ordered. "Now."

"Yes, mother," I said, walking slowly to my room and shutting the door. I was a little disappointed, a really wanted to here the good news from the bank. For half an hour or so I read my book until my mother called me out of room. I walked to the living room eagerly, ready to here what my mother had to say. I walked into the living room and saw my father shaking hands with Mr. Nite. He had come down from his study? In the middle of work? This must be important.

"It's offical then," Mr. Nite said, getting up from his spot on the couch and putting on his top hat. "I look forword to seeing you both very soon."

"As am I," My father said. "We will begin to pack immeadeatly." Packing? We're moving? Where?" These were my excited thoughts as I listened to my parents finish up their coversation with Mr. Nite. I watched take of his top hat and bow one more time before exiting the house.

"I can't believe it!" My mother said, hugging my father. "We're rich!"

"I can't believe it either, honey." My father said. " We're moving up! Into the rich parts of the city!"

"We're rich?" I asked excietidly. "Why, how?"

"Neyla, we have something to tell you, baby." My mother said slowly. "Come sit down." Confused, I sat down in front of my mother and father. My father looked at my mother who nodded and looked at me.

"Neyla, remeber when your father and I decided to sell Grandma's watch?" My mother asked. I nodded. My grandmother had recentley passed away, leaving behind only her will. She give her watch to my parents, and they decided to sell it.

"Well, appearantly it was worth alot of money. A billion dollars, to be exact." My father said.

"That's great!" I exclaimed, smiling ear to ear. "We're rich now!"

"Yes, Neyla, but the place we're moving into, the owner won't allow small children to live there." My mother said very grimly.

"But mother," I said, my voice beginning crack as realization sunk in. "What about me? I'm your daughter."

"Your father and I decided it would be best for you to grow up on the streets, like the other kids." That's when my eyes started to water. They were joking, they had to be.

"But I'm your daughter! You can't leave me out there, alone!" I cried, tears streaming down my face.

"You won't be alone, sweetie. There is alot of kids who grow up on the streets." My mother said.

"I don't know them! I wanna stay with you!" I whimpered.

"Neyla!" My father said in a stern, booming voice. "You should listen to your mother!" That was when I lost control.

"You aren't my parents!" I screamed, my hands curling up into fists, tears streaming down my face, making cheeks feel stiff. "You aren't my mother and you aren't my father! Real parents would love and care about me! You love money more than you love me!" At that I turned and fled. I ran out the door and into the street, almost getting hit by a horse drawn carriage. I ran faster than I had ever run, cutting across lawns and property. The world was just a blur passing by, and I didn't care about it any world. I made it to the busy down town part of the city, were trading was heavy and carriges were everywhere. I only stopped once I reached a dark allyway, or should I say my new home. I sat down, curled up into a little ball and cried.

That was the first time my world came crashing down on me.

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	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Sly Cooper, or any Sly Cooper characters. This story was made for entertainment, and entertainment only. I will not say I own, or have ever owned, Sly Cooper, or Sucker Punch Productions. Any ties to real life are completley and utterly acciedental.**_

_**Thanks for all those reviews! I didn't realize that I am such a good writer. I will try to keep up with the chapters and the reviews for The Chat. idk  
**_

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_Broken Heart, Broken Promises  
Chapter Two  
_

I don't know how long I sat crying in the allyway but by the time I stopped crying and looked up, my eyes were sore and my face was stiff from all the tears, and the mid-afternoon sun was replaced by a moon covered in clouds. I shivered, it was very cold, and I longed for the warmth of my bed. I wanted to g home, and sleep. But I couldn't. I couldn't go back. My parents didn't want me. More tears fell from my face, which surprised me. After all those tears I cried for hours on end, I couldn't believe I still had some left.

I wiped my tear-streaked face off with the back of my hand, got up and looked around. The erie darkness and silence of the allyway scared the living crap out of me. I felt like I was being watched. It was stupid, and I wasn't being watched, but my active seven year-old imagination made it seem like at any moment a giant monster would come out from the depth of the shadows and swallow me whole. I got up quickly and looked around, before running out of the dark allyway. The streets were silent, and a breeze ruffled my raven-black hair, making my stiff face feel frozen. I let out a small whimper and wrapped my arms around me in a weak attempt to comfort myself. Where would I go now? I was now a dirt-poor orphan in the rich side of town, and I didn't ever think I would survive.

I kept my head low and waked down the dimly-lit streets, whimpering to myself. My life sucked.

Why did my so-called 'parents' abandon me for money? What was so important about money, that they had to leave me? I was important, right? I mean, money isn't everything, right? But they felt that it was neccassary to do what ever it took to get money? They sold my grandmother's watch, a long time airloom that was made back in the 1600's. They got a lot of money, and they would have dumped me right out on the streets somewhere if I hadn't run away. They never loved me! All they felt about me was a something that they had to send there money on.

At that moment, a new feeling overwhelmed me. It was the first time I had ever experienced something like it. It was strong and bitter. It was like thousands of flames, dancing and turning, threatening to engulf everything and everybody in it's path. That feeling was _hate_.

I _hated_ Mr. Nite from the bank that came with that horrible news.

I _hated_ money, that was the thing that tore my parents away from me.

I _hated _my parents for saying that they would leave me.

I _hated _the cruel world.

It felt so good to hate. It made me feel stronger, like that would help me get through the world. And I wouldn't get through the world being all nice. I needed to _survive._ I know that all this about hate isn't helping in the case against me, I'm well aware of that, but you get dumped by your parents who loved money more than you, and have to live on the streets for the rest of your life, and see how much things about the world you love.

I walked down the dark streets with a fierce expression on my face. I would make my parents pay for leaving me. They should have known better than to leave a helpless, inoccent child on the streets to live. Did they cared if I lived? Hell no! All they wanted was to get rid of me. I guessed that I didn't know my parents as well as I thought.

And that was the first moment that I hated everybody and anybody who had a loving, caring family.

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